Poems

GUEST POST: The Race

August 27, 2009
By

Keeping with the poetry theme we had going yesterday, I’m proud to present the poem my Aunt (you may call her Auntie) wrote for my cousin Michelle, who’s lovable dog is named Rocket (right) and his dog friend is Gibson (left, naturally). Enjoy!

gibrocketoutside1

‘Twas the day of the Big Race
And all through the crowd
A murmur rose from soft to quite loud

The contestants were poised and ready at the starting line
Their wet noses were flaring
From their throats, a low growling whine

The owners in the stands
Were on their feet
Each thinking their dog was the one to beat

Gibson and Rocket were side by side
Both pleased with their positioning
Happy with their conditioning

At the starting gun,
Rocket, true to his name,
Took off with a shot, enjoying the fun

He was round the first curve in 10 seconds flat
He knew he was the leader of the race
So he settled into his smoothest pace

Around the second curve, he flew like the wind
His pink tongue a flag,
His black tail a wag.

He took the third curve, still way in the lead
The spectators had never seen a dog
With so much speed.

On the home stretch, no signs of tiring,
He kept on moving
All thrusters firing.

All of a sudden, he looked behind
He slowed to a stop,
Turned right around, something on his mind.

His eyes were intent
He knew what he had to do
So back to his friend he went.

The other dogs flew past,
Then Rocket and Gibson trotted side by side
Happy to be dead last.

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GUEST POST: Ode to My Stalkee

August 26, 2009
By

Today I welcome back the stalkerish amazing Polt of Polt’s Palace who is here to share some fantastic poetry with us:

—

Not everyone is as lucky as me,
To have such an adorkable Stalkee!
He’s great in every way
Happy, sweet, and yes gay.
He is quite tall and smiley,
Cute, funny and argyley.
I get to see his Viagra and vagina,
Which is, ya know, a little strange, kinda.
But it’s his quirkiness that attracts me,
His wit, his art, and his Evil Bunny.
He’s adorable in bunny ears, but
In a Canada t-shirt, he’s a wanton slut!
He’s neat and clean, never a fuss,
And oh yes, he writes Puntabulous!
He’s single, thus no marital strife,
Except there is Natalie Portman, His Wife.
He loves Battlestar G and their Cylons,
But I got no idea what’s going on.
He rarely uses the phone, you see,
but does when he’s “jus’ a bit TIP-sy”.
As his Stalker, I’d like more than just talk,
But if I tried, he might cut off my stalk.
Envy me for my Stalkee, madams and sirs,
Cause my Stalkee’s the best! He’s Craiggers!

THE END

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Ode to Happier Times

September 18, 2008
By

I don’t know what happened,
They used to be just right,
But not any longer,
My pants are too tight.

I double check the tag,
Nope, they’re the right size,
But my belly hangs over,
I can’t believe my eyes.

There once was a time,
I’d eat what I wanted,
And never gain a pound,
It’s a trait that I flaunted.

Those days are long gone,
Now everything’s snug,
But it just ain’t that cute,
I’m no bug in a rug.

Nowadays I love to snack,
Don’t let that food linger,
If you don’t move any quicker,
I’ll eat that last chicken finger.

I know what you’re thinking:
“Craig! You are so lazy!”
But I refuse to work out,
So your comments don’t phase me.

Yeah, whatever, deadly sins,
I know one of them’s sloth.
But what do you expect?
I’m no man of the cloth.

So here’s to you youngins,
Who enjoy being svelt,
Enjoy it while it lasts,
Soon you’ll loosen the belt.

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A Valentine’s Day Poem

February 14, 2008
By

Ode to Valentine’s Day
by Craig McAnally

That wondrous day has come again,
What a magic time of year!
Chocolate! Flowers! Love abound!
But my schedule’s fairly clear.

Another year that Cupid missed,
That big target on my back.
Why won’t that little flying fucker,
Cut me a single ounce of slack?

Through the year I smile and flirt,
Sometimes I’ll even show some leg.
But rarely ever do I ever,
Fit the circle with the peg.

Please, oh please, don’t get me wrong,
There’s more to life than getting laid.
But sex is like a marching band,
And life’s raining on my parade.

Why can’t my Tarzan, take a swing,
On a vine and save this dork?
But vines are hard to come by,
When you’re living in New York.

Deep inside I really don’t mind,
Being alone on this crappy day.
I know one day I’ll find my love,
And grow boring, old, and even gray.

So, dear reader, if you’re like me,
Please don’t ever fret!
Know deep down inside your heart,
You’re the greatest soul you’ve ever met.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I’m celebrating Valentine’s Day with a new header featuring some of my favorite TV couples! I was just going to keep it up for the day, but I really like it, so I’ll keep it up through the weekend. Maybe I can set up one of those fancy rotating header things to switch things up every time you visit! That would be fun!

And then of course there is this, courtesy of my new best friends over at 360 – The Math Blog:

godzillavalentine.JPG

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PUNTABULOUS POETRY

June 25, 2006
By

The Storyteller:

Once there was a strange old man,
With so many tales to tell,
That his head was always full,
His mind a knowledge well.

He did little all day long,
His stories were his life,
No children to call his own,
Nor a love to call his wife.

So many stories in his mind,
And yet he told no single one,
He was just a strange, old man,
Whom people took for stricken dumb.

Once a year, he’d leave his house,
For a walk around the lake,
An old tree limb for a cane,
Gentle footprints in his wake.

I saw this man one day,
And right away I knew the key,
The way he told his timeless stories,
They’re not to hear, but just to see.

I was told of all his tales,
By one look upon his face,
I did not need a single word,
For they would only go to waste.

Every wrinkle in his skin,
All the flicker in his eyes,
The slight shuffle in his legs,
His mouth the shape of morning tides.

His tales streamed forth forever on,
With the wind, rose in the sky,
Too great for tiny, mortal words,
To a place they’d never die.

He could tell so many stories,
Am I the only one to see?
Way beyond this strange, old man,
The storyteller that was he.

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PUNTABULOUS IS A CHEESE BALL

April 5, 2006
By

I really don’t have anything funny to report today. Last night I was going to write a recap of American Idol, but the show was absolutely boring and it left me uninspired. We already know I hate Taylor and Paris, there is no reason to go into it again.

But I must give you guys something, so I decided to let you guys read some of my poetry. That’s right, when I’m not trying to be funny, I write cheesy children’s poetry. I know it may seem crazy, given my butch personality, but it’s true.

REST EASY

Rest easy dear child,
Dream away as you might.
Lay your head on my chest,
You are close to me tonight.

Let your worries of today,
Pass on to nevermore.
Who knows what tomorrow brings?
What it has for you in store?

Rest easy dear child,
Let the future bring what may.
You’ll be ready, you’ll be willing,
For tomorrow’s brand new day.

Dream of sweetness, dream of light,
Dream of happiness coming soon.
May the dreams of your heart,
Shine as bright as the moon.

Rest easy dear child,
Let nothing give you fright.
Sleep sweetly, dream of peace,
You are close to me tonight.

MAGIC WORLD

What a magic world this is,
Wondrous things to go and see.
Put your hand inside my hand,
And walk this path along with me.

Climb a tree within the woods,
Swim as far as we can go.
Run as fast as leopards can,
Where it ends, just we will know.

What a magic world this is,
Everyday is something new.
There is nothing I want more,
Than to explore this world with you.

Fly a spaceship to the moon,
From a swing set in the yard.
Camp out in a dangerous jungle,
In a tent beneath the stars.

What a magic world this is,
There are paths I cannot go.
But I’ll always be with you,
In your heart you’ll always know.

MAGIC HAT

I found this magic hat,
With magic still inside.
It’s not a magic rabbit,
Or a roller coaster ride.

It’s something big and small,
For me and you to share.
For people short and tall,
For groups or just a pair.

I found this magic hat,
With magic still inside.
It’s not a magic cat,
Or a magic carpet ride.

It’s how I cheer you up,
When you are feeling blue.
Or just to say “Hello”,
Or “Goodness I love you!”

I love this magic hat,
With magic still inside.
And when I take it out,
I open my arms wide.

It’s a hug you silly goose,
A gift to know I care.
If you ever need some love,
Put on this hat and I’ll be there.

SMILE

It looks like something’s wrong,
Your smile went away.
Was it something that I said?
Or just a rotten day?

I know just how you feel,
Being sad is not much fun.
If you think you are alone,
Than you’re not the only one.

I have a helpful tip,
To help you with that frown.
It’s something that I use,
For when I’m feeling down.

I close my eyes and think,
Of all that’s good and true.
And my sadness disappears,
Because I thought of you.

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PUNTABULOUS ODE TO TELEVISION

October 27, 2005
By

What a season for TV,
There is magic all around.
When the world is dark and grey,
TV never lets me down.

While I still enjoy the Wives,
Grey’s Anatomy has it beat.
Watch that guy break out of jail,
What a gorgeous hunk of meat.

Biggest Loser gains my love,
While the people lose the weight.
My life is so much like The Office,
Can Jim take me on a date?

Veronica Mars solves all the crimes,
While Lost is on an island far.
But they’re on at the same time,
God bless my sweet, sweet DVR.

Yes, Survivor is still on,
Who’d of thought it’d last this long?
Thursday’s one great big fat night,
It gets two verses in this song.

The OC is not as good,
As the golden days of yore.
Donald says that you are fired,
Go on and march right out that door.

Then we’re down to weekend shows,
Nothing’s on, let’s go outside!
No forget it, let us not,
We’ll watch reruns of Family Guy.

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PUNTABULOUS GETS ROMANTIC WITH THE O.C.

September 9, 2005
By

Here is a poem I wrote to express my love of The O.C. Don’t read it if you’re still catching up with past seasons!

I’m so glad the fall is here,
I’m full of zealousness and glee.
For what reason, do you ask?
But of course for new O.C.!

Ryan Atwood doesn’t smile,
While Seth Cohen’s quite a clown.
Marisa Cooper’s much too skinny,
Summer never let’s me down.

Sandy and Kiki rock the house,
They’re the parents of the year.
Shoot someone? Take some drugs?
They’ll take you in without a fear.

Julie Cooper is a bitch,
But I love her anyway.
Jimmy Cooper’s back in town,
Since old Caleb passed away.

People tend to come and go,
Alex, Lindsay, Luke and Zach.
But if you can not fit right in,
Then we do not want you back.

It doesn’t ever seem to rain,
Newport Beach is quite a town.
Though it did rain that one time,
When Seth was hanging upside-down.

Bait Shop is the place to be,
How do they get those bands?
That’s where Alex met Marisa,
Did you see them holding hands?

Teresa lied and had her baby,
Who’s the daddy? We don’t know.
But please, oh please, do not be Ryan,
Or it’s back to crap Chino.

So much happens in a week,
Much too much to fit in here.
Don’t get me started on that Oliver,
Or I’ll be yelling for a year.

I could go on here for days,
But I’m running out of rhymes.
Tune in Thursdays, Fox at Eight,
For some guaranteed good times.

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